


Games

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst, Canon, Episode Related, Gap Filler, Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-05-15
Updated: 2004-05-15
Packaged: 2018-12-27 02:04:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12071406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: A gap filler for episode #219.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

What the fuck is he humming about? What the fuck do I care? Why do I want to punch him? Hug him. Kiss him. Touch him. Scream at him. Fuck him. God I need to get a grip.

He slides the door shut with a thud and, in an obnoxious way, saunters into the loft and starts to take off his scarf. I swig out of a glass of Jack and let it burn all the way down my throat. It’s nice to feel something else besides this overwhelming, sickening rush of emotion. For a moment I watch him, hidden in the shadows on the stairs that lead up to our bed. He hasn’t seen me yet.

Why are you doing this Justin? Breaking your own goddamned rules. Making me crazy. Making me hate you. Making me love you.

I shrugged it off when Mikey told me. Well, what did he tell me really? Nothing I didn’t already know on some level. It was the look in Michael’s eyes. He felt sorry for me. It made me sick. Made my stomach twist and turn and my hands go numb. My lip twitched and my jaw got tight and I lied through my fucking teeth and told him it wouldn’t matter what Justin was out doing, or who Justin was out doing. That isn’t true though. This is more than a trick. This is more than a fuck. This is more than having a little fun.

I want to grab him and shake him, scream until he listens about what I’ve done for him, what I’ve given up for him, how he’s changed me. He’s not allowed to toss in the towel now. We’ve come this far and he thinks he’s allowed to fuck things up? Fuck him.

It’s hard though, a lot has happened to us both. Did I really think we’d make it this far? Hell no. It still amazes me when I think about it. Although I rarely do. But when I do…it blows my mind really. Can’t tell who I am anymore. Who he’s made me.

Before him I knew what Brian Kinney was all about. I could sum myself up in a short sentence, Fuck or get fucked. I had an easy life and I wasn’t complaining. He was just some cute kid on a corner with a nice ass. He had to walk into my life. He had to walk into my heart. I can’t turn that all around now. I can’t undo it; take back what’s happened to him or to me or to us. We’re here now, regardless of the road we took, and now he wants to stop this ride…to get off at the next stop with god knows who, leaving me to go on alone. Am I even allowed to stop him? To try and make him stay?

Ever since Mikey got the wheels in my head turning and burning and fuming over this I can’t help but picture Justin with some guy, probably some kid, kissing him and making love to him and being with him the way he is with me. Makes me want to kill that unknown face. I hate a person I’ve never even met.

I don’t know though, it’s a free fucking world. What if he did find someone better than me? I’m not good for Justin. And I never fucking said I was. He’s too young, his whole life ahead of him. We’re in different places. Of course, that really is just psychosomatic bullshit that I’m spewing 'cause I’m on my fourth glass of Jack in an hour. That kid was the only one to ever get me to stay in one place for more than five seconds. The only person who ever really caught my attention. And damn if he hasn’t had it since that first night. Seems like a lifetime ago.

Look at him standing there now, no idea I’m here, no idea I know, no idea what’s waiting. So innocent-looking for someone so damn guilty. Does it bother him, what he’s doing? Does it keep him up at night? Does he give a shit that it will destroy us? Does he even realize that? Does he even care?

I could let it pass. Let him do this until it bores him. Whoever this guy is, he’ll get old soon enough. Maybe it’s something he needs to do, explore other options. When he’s done he’ll come back to this. Back to me. But, why the fuck should I come home every night to an empty loft wondering where the fuck he is? Why should I have to taste someone else on him when he never does on me? Fuck him…two can play this game.

I step into the light, glass in hand, with a look on my face that says 'and-where-the-fuck-have-you-bee?'. I startle him, “Jesus Brian…” he says slightly shaken up. I want him to feel shaken up. I want to make him nervous. Is it easy to lie to me Justin? Is it easy to come home freshly fucked and face a horny Brian Kinney? Gotta give the kid credit, he’s been fucking us both for however long its been going on and he hasn’t turned me down once. He’s made quick getaways for the shower, but I generally join him like I did yesterday. It all makes sense now. Studying late, showering incessantly…did he think I wouldn’t see through that? Did he want me to?

He says quietly, “I thought you were bowling.”

“Game’s over,” my reply is dry and bored.

“How’d we do?” As if he gives a shit.

“Three cheers to the winners.” I’m slurring a bit, liquor catching up with me.

“Way to go,” he says it halfheartedly as I set down my glass. I have other things to do with my hands.

“It wasn’t us.” I toss my hands in the air and with a shrug and start to walk toward him. 

 

My eyes are revealing everything I’m going to do to him. Do you see me Justin? Do you know what I’m thinking?

He tries to walk right past me. Our shoulders brush and he dodges, in such an obvious way, to avoid me altogether.


	2. Games

“Where you going?” As if I don’t know.

“To take a shower.” Saw that coming.

“You sure are taking a lot of showers lately.” I draw out the words as I grab on to him. He’s not getting past me. I don’t care how hard he tries tonight.

“Come here.” My voice settles into a sultry rhythm. I want him to stop fighting me and trying to wriggle away like a child who knows they’ve done something wrong. Accept your fate Justin.

“Later.” He says it with furrowed eyebrows and a hurt look in his eye. Like I have fucking done something wrong! Me? Right.

“Now.” I’m stern, but my voice is still seductive.

“Can’t we please do this after I shower?” He’s whining now, there’s nothing more unattractive than that. He needs so badly to wash away his sins and I’d sooner die than let him near that fucking shower. Do you feel dirty Justin?

“Uh...I like smelling you…not soap.” I hold his nervous gaze for a long, labored moment before leaning in. I slide my nose right up next to his, touching his cheek and I suck in. Smell him. He has to know. Has to know I smell that other person. Flashes of tongues and kisses and passion and sex go through my mind. I lean back and look at him. Look at me Justin. Really look at me.

I run my hand through the hair just above his ear and I cock my head a little as I stare at him. Now it’s me trying to read his eyes. What are they telling me? They are begging me to release him. Begging me not to kiss him. Begging me to let him get away with this.

You’re not getting away this time Sunshine. No shower for you tonight. I want to fucking smell him on you. I want to stick my tongue in your mouth and chart where he’s been. Does he fuck you? Do you let him? I’m gonna find it all out right now. And you’re going to let me. You’re going to beg me…and you don’t even know it.

I clutch him tight, yank him to me, let him feel my fingers grip his arms through his clothes. I shove my tongue in his mouth. We don’t start slow and sweet and build up. I am out of the gates with a bang. He can feel the urgency surging through me. The heat between us is undeniable, even when my agenda is unusual. Can he deny this passion, this longing, this yearning…this…

We delve into each other mouths like it’s the first time. I’ve never been so needy and rough with him like this. I can tell it excites him and scares him and confuses him. That’s what sex is all about though. That’s why it’s a rush to do it with strangers…that’s why I’d never give that up. Unpredictability and spontaneity and the not knowing where their hand is going to go or their mouth is going to go or their dick is going to go.

Our skin is heating up and my lips are already on fire. I’m pressing into him so hard. Leaving marks over every inch of him. Do you feel this Justin, do you feel me? Do you know what you’re fucking up? Do you know what you’re breaking?

The room is spinning and our experience is moment to moment. Heat fills our mouths and our skin and the air and this loft. I can feel it all around us. Pressing in on us. Making us closer. I clutch at him, grab him, yank his jacket off. Taste me Justin, my virgin mouth…untouched by anyone but yours…for as long as I can remember.

Who is he? Why does he taste that way? Almost too sweet. It’s not Justin’s tongue in there. It’s Justin kissing some other guy’s tongue in there. The kissing is still good, but so tainted. I don’t know if I’m turned off or repulsed. Well, my dick says I’m turned on, but my mind knows better.

I don’t know where I’m going with this. Can I finish what I started? Can I stop this now that it’s going full speed ahead. I want him to understand me. I want him to see that I know. Is this the way to do it? Is this the way to show him?

My hands fly up the back of his shirt and clench his bare skin for the first time. It’s warm like mine, blood rising to the surface. Deep breathing and sexual energy making it sensitive and hot and waiting to be touched.

Do you like this Justin? Does it turn you on? Would you trade this for anything else, for anyone else? Could you walk away from me? From our life and our home and our family?

He’s letting little whimpers escape now. Barely audible, but I pick up on them. More the vibration of them leaving his mouth and entering mine. His eyes are completely closed now. He’s lost in the land of foreplay. Teetering on the edge of ecstasy. The slap back to reality is going to hurt him, burn him, leave a scar on him. And I want it to. We twist and turn and pull and push and yearn and need and feel and breathe - fuck I really do want him.

I pull at his hair and his neck and his arms and his clothes. I never told you that I loved you did I Justin? Never let the words pass my lips. But I do. You know I do. I show you I do. You feel that I do. Do you feel it now? Even now, when I’m going to hurt you. You know I love you. But you need to punish me for not saying it. And I thought you understood me…

I breathe hard through my nose, don’t want to tear apart our lips. Not even to breathe. My hands move up his shoulders, seizing his neck and face and hair and skin, I push down to drop us to our knees. Want him to know we aren’t going to make it to the bed. Want him to feel how much I want him. I can feel how much he wants me.

Our knees slam to the floor, barely feel the pain of it shoot up my thighs. I start to push into him. He resists as first, isn’t sure if he’s still supposed to be giving back what I’m dishing out. Then he relaxes a little and I tumble him backwards onto the floor with a thud. My body covers his as our hands grasp at anything they can find. His shirt, my pants, his hair, my belt, my shirt, his hand, my lips, his dick, my face…

Fuck I want to finish this. Want to forget about it all and fuck him senseless. Want to feel the passion we’ve lost. And it’s here now, I’ve produced it. It floats around us and fills us and makes us pant and grit our teeth and grind our hips. But, I have to make my point. I have to let him know…he doesn’t control this…he doesn’t own this…we were in it together and he’s fucked it up. He needs to know that. Needs to know I’m watching and waiting. I dare you Justin, I fucking dare you to defy this trust once you know I’m on to you…


	3. Games

It's mad and passionate and so very fucked up that I can barely contain the screams desperately seeking escape from my lips. His hands fly down to my crotch and grasp at the buttons on my jeans. I sit up abruptly and slap them away from me, hard. There's no question here about who's in charge.

His outstretched arms land softly on the floor beside him. He settles for a moment in a state of resignation as I roughly pull at the button and the zipper on his pants. I start to lean forward again. I see the longing in his eyes. Are you missing my lips Justin? Missing my tongue inside of you?

I reach down his pants, push away his briefs and grasp at his pulsating dick. It's twitching and throbbing and screaming for escape. Roughly, I yank it out and my eyes meet his. Full of wild fire they hold his gaze and I lean in again, close to his face, "You like that?" I say it breathily and seductively. He thinks he's about the get the best fuck of his life.

"Yes. Yes." The words tumble out of his mouth quickly and honestly. I sink my lips into him and catch the second "yes" between my teeth and hold it there. You love this don't you? You need me don't you?

I start clutching at him again, grasping tightly to any piece of him I can hold on to. I rip my hands through his hair; twist his head in an awkward, desperate way. Want him to know I could devour him right now if he’ll let me. Do you want me to ravage you Justin? Do you want me inside of you? Do you need this to forget about everything else?

I run my hands over every inch of him. Clasp his dick and release it again. I can feel the cum running from it. I can hear his body buzzing. He involuntarily arches under me. Wants full contact with my body. He's silently begging me to hurry up and fuck him.

Then I stop.

Pull my face back out of the kiss. Hold it still for a moment as he arches up and strains to kiss my chin a few times and then he sees it. Sees I've stopped for a reason. Sees this isn't part of the game. "Why'd you stop? Brian?"

I lower my eyes lower and I draw my head back a little so I can get a better look at him. My eyes lock on his, I say everything I'm thinking with one look. Then I say it, "Go take a shower." My voice is hushed and I utter the words through angrily clenched teeth. I jerk back, hand sliding along the wood floor making a screeching noise representative of the halt I just put on our relationship.

I move in close to him for one more look, "You stink." I throw the excuse he’s used so liberally lately back in his face. I stand up, step over him and walk into the living room. I hear his breath catch in his chest, I see his shaking hand lay over his chest. He lets out the caught breath and stands up. His knees are shaking and his lip is quivering. Do you want to cry Justin? Did I upset you?

He makes his retreat to the shower. See there, you ended up in there anyway, just where you wanted to be. I take a seat on the couch. Smooth my shirt, wiping away the signs of struggle and passion.

I stare toward the windows that overlook the street below. I'm looking right through the glass but don't see a thing. I hear the shower come on. Water beating down against tile. I can imagine him scrubbing away at his skin. Rubbing himself raw trying to make it all go away. But can you make it go away Justin? I know I can’t.

I put my hands in my lap and look down to find my dick's gone soft. Not surprised really, it was hard under false pretense. It knew what I was doing, just couldn't help itself being near him. Sure I wanted to fuck him, easy to get lost inside of the moment (especially a Justin moment). But, that wasn't about sex, getting off, fucking him like crazy. I was making a point. I think he heard me, loud and clear.

I don't know what he'll do next. I don't even know what I want him to do. That's not true. I want him to stop fucking whoever the hell he's fucking and start coming home to me. He started this shit with the rules, he can finish it too. I haven’t broken one. Not a single fucking one of his goddamned rules. I don’t make many promises, but at least I fucking keep them when I do.

What's happening to us?

After a long while, and surely long after the water in the shower had run cold, I hear him turn it off. The glass door quietly creaks open. He towels off and brushes his teeth. I listen to him perform these mundane tasks that we usually do together each night. But not tonight.


	4. Games

I hear the dresser drawer slide open and I hear him rustle some clothes around as he puts them on. The light clicks off in the bathroom. The light dims down in the bedroom. The sheets turn down on the bed. The loft is dark and quiet and I can't move from where I sit. I guess I don’t get a “good night.” But, then again, it’s been anything but a good night.

This time is so different. He’s not running to me to smooth things over. His silence speaks volumes about where we are. What this has come to. Part of me wants to go to him, ask him if he understands now. Ask him if he'll end it. I want to hold him and tell him it's going to be all right. But, I know it probably won't be. No sense in living inside of a dreamer's lie. Now I’m trapped inside one of my own rules; don’t go after him Brian. Don’t ever go after anybody.

I sit on the couch for a long while after I hear him start his little soft snore. That deep breathing that makes it sound like he's purring. It took him forever to fall asleep. I just sat here, I bet hours have passed. I know my inaction made him nervous. In a way that's why I just sat here, to drive him a little more mad. Could have gone out, could have gotten out of here. But, so could he. It's my fucking loft. I pay the goddamned bills here. I don't have to leave, that's part of the deal.

Getting up from the couch, my legs ache when I stand from having been immobile for so long. I saunter to the bedroom and take off my clothes. Washing my face and brushing my teeth I think about the time when I always did these things alone. It is only now, since he infiltrated my life and changed the way I operate, can I even begin to understand what loneliness is like. I didn’t ever have anyone to miss before. 

I lift up the comforter on my side of the bed and slink in next to him. Strange to be in this bed, lying right next to him when we both feel so far from one another. I lie on my back, face to the ceiling. Pretend not to look at him as I watch his chest rise and fall out of the corner of my eye. He’s not rolling over, closing in on my body like he usually does. How does your subconscious know to stay away?

Why’d you do it Justin? What thing is missing from us? What did you go searching for in someone else? What’s he got that I don’t? We may not be perfect…a little bent…but not broken. I can fix this Justin, I can fix it. Just tell me where it hurts. Talk to me. Say anything.


End file.
